


The Adventures of Harry and Sam

by Sinfulsoup78



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinfulsoup78/pseuds/Sinfulsoup78
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	The Adventures of Harry and Sam

Walking up the opposite side of the street, the woman noticed when the two men in suits exited the sheriff's office. Two very tall men, one of whom she recognised. Using a storefront door for cover, she pulled her phone from her pocket, dialling a number she knew by heart. 

“It's me,” she said as the phone was answered, all the while keeping her eyes on the two men. “Tell Harry to pack a bag and leave town.”

“I don't -” 

“Keith's here.” A beat. “He and some other guy just walked into Angie’s Diner.”

“Great,” came the groaned response.

“I just don't want what happened last time to happen again.”

“Yeah, I get it. Thanks for the heads up.” 

\--------------------------------

“Don't know about you,” Dean said as he saw the sign for the diner, “But I could eat.”

The background chatter quieted as the men entered the busy diner. Sam thought he saw the waitress shake her head minutely at a man sitting at the counter; a faint metallic click going along with it.

Taking a booth near the window, the brothers scanned the menus. “What can I get you?” the waitress, an older lady with greying hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose, aimed at Dean.

“I'll have the cheeseburger with the lot and a side of fries,” Dean replied with a smile, reading her name tag. Magda.

“And I'll have the -” Sam started.

“We don't serve people like **_you_** here,” Magda said disgustedly.

“People like me? What -” Sam started again as Magda turned to Dean.

“Your order will be ready shortly.” She smiled at Dean.

“What did you mean, ‘people like him’?” Dean asked, pointing across the table at his brother.

“Maybe you should ask him,” the waitress said with a forced smile.

“You know what?” Dean said, standing. “Forget it. I've just lost my appetite.” And with that Dean pushed past her and headed for the door, Sam a step behind him.

“What was that, Sam?” Dean hissed, pulling Sam down a side alley. “They'll serve me but not you? Since when has that ever happened?” 

“It hasn't.”

“Did you recognise anyone in there?” Sam shook his head no. “Have you been here before?” Sam shook his head no again. “I wonder why that waitress reacted like that?”

“I don't know, Dean. But I wish like hell I did.”

\----------------------

“You need to listen to me,” Moe stressed into the receiver. “You need to pack a bag, get Grace, get in your car and just drive.”

“So it's true then? It really  _ is  _ him?”

“Harry, please. Just get Grace and go. None of us wants to see you hurt again. I'll call you once I know  _ for sure  _ that he's left town,” Moe pleaded. The line filled with dead air. “Harry?”

“No.”

“Har-”

“This is on  **_him,_ ** not me. I didn't do anything wrong. He's already made me pick up and run once, but not again.”

The line was quiet for a beat. “You sure? I mean he doesn't know you're here. At least not yet.”

“I'm sure.” Moe heard the confidence in her friend’s voice. “But I'll get Grace to stay with Abigail for a few days.”

“You'd leave if you knew what was good for you,” Moe said, not unkindly.

“Since when have I ever done what's good for me?” Harry replied with a laugh before hanging up.

\----------------------------

“Are you sure you don't know what's happening here?” Dean asked as they walked along the street. 

“I'm sure, Dean. If I knew, I'd tell you,” Sam replied. He'd been racking his brain, trying to think of what he could possibly have done to cause such a reaction. “Maybe I should go back to the motel.”

“Not just yet, Sammy. We may be in luck.” Dean pointed to a sign indicating an open bar. “You go find us a table somewhere dark, and I'll order us up some grub.” 

Following Dean through the door, Sam had only taken a few steps inside the almost empty bar when he found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. “Melissa?” he asked, confusion mixing with surprise as he recognised her.

The woman's finger tightened on the trigger. “Heard you were back” she snarled, the weapon, aimed at Sam's head, steady in her hand. “You've got some nerve, showing up here.”

“I don't -” Sam started. His raised hands turned into fists, and he worked to keep them open.

“You tell her you love her, then you go and do  **_that_ ** to her? You got a mighty weird way of showing love,” Moe spat. 

“Sam?” Dean questioned, his own hands raised like his brother's, his posture more relaxed than Sam's.

“Melissa, please, I don't know what's going on here. Can you tell me what it is that I'm supposed to have done?” Sam pleaded. 

“ _ Seriously?”  _ Moe said incredulously. “You're really gonna play it that way? After what you did to Harry?” Sam visibly swallowed at the sound of the name, a flashback running quickly through his head.

\----------------------------

_ Holding the ‘Help Wanted’ sign in his hand, Sam wondered for the millionth time if by leaving Dean he was doing the right thing.  _ Too late now,  _ he thought. _

_ A bell dinged as Sam pushed open the bar door. “Just a sec, hon,” a female voice said. _

_ Making his way to the counter, he heard her muttered “Damn it!”, then was greeted by a small woman wearing a short, black skirt with curly blonde hair halfway down her white bloused back, standing precariously on a step ladder, apparently trying to reach something in an overhead cabinet. _

_ “Here, let me,” he said, not stopping to think before he dropped the sign and went behind the counter. His hand was over hers before he knew it, a shot of electricity shooting up his arm as his fingers brushed her hand. Taking the bottle from her, he stammered, “Wh-where does it go?”  _ Static _ , he reasoned.  _ Just static.  _ His throat went dry as she turned to face him. Then they were almost nose to nose, and he got to see her for the first time. _

_ A half inch of dark roots peeked out from under her centrally parted golden blonde hair. Dark brows arched over soft, chestnut brown eyes. Light reflected off the flat, round silver nose stud she wore as her full, red lips quirked up in a smile. _

_ “Well, you're a feisty one, ain't ya?” she quipped, one eyebrow raised. “Up there,” she pointed. Climbing off the ladder, she said, “Here, use this if you want.” Sam stood on the bottom step, although he really didn't need to, putting the bottle where she'd indicated. “Would you mind doing the rest of the box?”  _

_ “Sure, uh, okay, sure,” Sam stammered again, grabbing another couple of bottles from the box.  _ What the hell is wrong with me?  _ he thought.  _ It's not like I haven't been around women before.

_ She watched from her perch on the counter as he made quick work of the box. “Thanks,” she said as she folded down the box. “You ever done bar work?” She let the question hang in the air as her hand made a circular motion. Tilted her head towards the help wanted sign on the counter at his raised eyebrow. _

New me, new name.  _ “Keith, and, well no, but I learn quick,” he replied.  _ Learn quick? Really? So much for that Stanford education,  _ he thought with an inward groan, watching her as she eyed him over. _

_ “Okay, here's the deal. Tonight's gonna be busy. Be here at six thirty. I'll show you around. You work tonight, if you like it, I'll keep you on. If it's not your thing,” she said with a shrug, “you still get paid for a full shift. So, you want in?” _

_ “Yeah,” Sam said with a chuckle, a big easy smile across his face. Sobering, he said, “I do have one question though.” At her raised brow, he said, “I don't know your name.” _

_ “I'm Harry,” she said smiling, holding out her hand. “It's nice to meet you, Keith.” _

_ “You too,” Sam replied, feeling that jolt of electricity again as he shook her hand.  _ Not static, _ he thought before he wondered if she felt it too. _

_ \---------------------------- _

“Ha-Harry?” he whispered, somewhat dumbfounded. “I never would've -”

“Bristol, Keith. Rhode Island? Ring any bells?” Moe said and watched him visibly pale, his head shaking from side to side. “So it does.” Moe opened her mouth to speak, but instead shook her head and readjusted her aim. 

“Wait, Keith? Harry?” Dean asked as he watched his brother's reactions, watched as he paled. “Sam?”

“Look, I don't know what you're doing with this,” Moe waved her gun up and down at Sam, “ _ idiot _ , but this isn't your fight.”

Dean cut his eyes to Moe. “That's my brother you're talking about, so I suggest-”

“You suggest what? That I watch what I say about him?” She scoffed. “You'd think differently if you knew what he did. And then to just waltz in here, like nothing ever happened?” She snorted a derisive laugh. 

“How ‘bout you fill me in?” Dean said.

“How ‘bout you ask your brother,” Moe retorted mockingly as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. With a quick glance, Moe saw Mrs Archer, an eighty-year-old and a regular at the seniors' lunches they held at the bar, get up and, leaning heavily on her cane, hobble over. 

"I couldn't help but overhear, is he the one who hurt Miss Harry?" Mrs Archer asked, her southern drawl prominent.   
  


"Yes ma'am," Moe replied, keeping her gun trained on Sam.   
  


Leaning heavily on her walking stick, Mrs Archer hobbled over to stand in front of Sam. "You should be ashamed of yourself," she said as she hit his legs with her walking stick. "Picking on someone half your size! Never would've happened in my day. Men had respect for women. Not like you," she added vehemently. "Next time you pick on someone, I hope they're bigger than you!" She gave him one final whack to the shin with her cane before turning to Moe. "You tell me if he hurts Miss Harry again, there's more where that came from."   
  


Moe smiled and nodded. "Will do, ma'am."   
  


Sam turned to look at Dean as he rubbed his shins, finding Dean trying not to laugh. 

"Something funny, Dean?" Sam asked dryly.   
  


"Nope," Dean said, coughing slightly to stifle his laugh. "Nothing at all."   
  


_ He has a nice smile,  _ Moe thought as she watched Dean trying, and failing, to hide it. “Seeing as how we seem to be at an impasse, I'm gonna give you two options. Option one, my preferred option, is I shoot you,” she aimed at Sam. “Option two, I let you and Mr Playboy over there walk out of here, get in your car, and drive far, far away. Pick.” Moe watched as the two men exchanged a glance between them.

“Option two suits us just fine, doesn't it Sammy?” Dean said.

“Absolutely,” Sam agreed before he and Dean walked out.

“Bristol, Bristol,” Dean said, thinking out loud as they stood outside the bar. “Didn't you bang a lot of girls out there?” Sam dropped his head, chin on his chest and groaned. “Look, why don't you head back to the motel. I'm gonna see if I can't get us something to eat. And then you're gonna tell me about this Harry chick.” Dean watched Sam stride down the street, waiting until he was out of sight before heading back into the bar. 

The barmaid looked up as Dean entered. “Hey Moe,” she called. “You're gonna wanna take this.” The barmaid moved down to the other end of the bar as Moe came to a stop in front of where Dean now sat.

“Thought I threw you out, Playboy.”

“Actually, it's Dean, and you did.”

“And yet here you are,” Moe returned dryly. “But, for the life of me, I just can't figure out why.”

Forearms resting on the edge of the counter, hands up in a gesture of surrender, Dean said, “I just want to talk. That's all.”

“What makes you think I wanna hear anything you have to say? I mean, you  _ are _ hanging around that sorry excuse for a human.”

Dean gritted his teeth at the insult. “Sammy has had some...memory problems lately.”

“How'd that happen?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a long story,” Dean replied vaguely. 

“I’ll bet.”

“Look, if you could just tell me what happened, I’m sure we could get this sorted out,” Dean said, trying to plead his case. 

Moe shook her head. “No can do, Playboy. It's not my story to tell.”

Dean looked crestfallen. “Tell ya what I'll do. You got a card or something?” Fishing in his pocket, Dean laid a card on the counter as he looked up at her, and she thought she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Holding the card up between her index and middle fingers, Moe said, “I'll pass this on. It'll be up to Harry if she wants to talk to you.”

“Thanks,” Dean said with a small, appreciative smile.

He'd just made it to the door when he heard, “Don't hurry back.”

\---------------------------

_ We don't serve people like  _ you _ here. _

The words had been running through Sam's head all the way back to the motel. 

_ Bristol, Keith. Ring any bells? _

Of course it had rung bells. It wasn't that long ago that he and Dean were out there, cleaning up the mess of the Arachne case that he and Samuel had left, discovering that the sheriff was now a human spider.  _ But why would I have asked Harry along? She hates spiders,  _ he thought as he remembered the case he'd worked twice.

Leaning his back against the door, Sam was grateful for the sanctuary the motel room provided.  _ What the  _ **_hell_ ** _ have I done?  _ he wondered again.

\-------------------

The phone landed with a thunk on the table as Harry blew out a long breath. “What'd he say?” Moe asked.

Harry looked at her friend over her kitchen table. “As far as he knows, it's all true. He also said that if I wanted more details, that I should call Bobby.”

Moe scoffed. “Sounds like Rufus, alright.” She watched Harry stare at the phone for a minute before she picked it up herself. Raising her hand, she said, “I'm calling him. You,” she lifted her cup, “make coffee.”

While Harry busied herself making coffee and some sandwiches, she listened to Moe's end of the conversation.

“Hi Bobby...yeah, it's me ...I know, it seems like forever ...yeah, she's good, she misses you too ...yeah, I'll tell her that. Not to be rude, but I'm wondering if you could maybe help us out a little...had two guys come into the bar today….one of them Harry's had a run in with...the other said his name was Dean...Said something about not remembering stuff...so it's true then? All of it?..and he really can't remember ...a  _ whole _ year?....yeah, we'll do that...either Christmas or New Years..okay, yep, for sure...yeah, we love you too, bye”

As Harry set the sandwiches and coffee on the table, she said, “So it  _ is  _ true. He really can't remember?”

After taking a sip of her coffee, Moe said, “It's true, alright. According to Bobby, when Death got -”

“Death? You don't mean -”

“The one and only Horseman. Anyway, long story short, when Keith got his soul back, they had to put in a barrier so he wouldn't remember Hell.” Harry slumped in her chair and tried to make sense of it all. 

“If it makes you feel any better,” Moe said around a mouthful of sandwich, “he looked like he'd seen a ghost when I mentioned your name.” Moe ate another sandwich, watching her friend process what she'd just been told. “You want my advice? Talk to Dean. He seems reasonable enough.”

“And what would I say, exactly?” Harry harrumphed.

“Tell him about Bristol and leave it at that. Give him just enough to put his mind at ease. Might put yours at ease a little too.” Moe checked her watch. “I gotta go. You want me to take Grace to Abigail's?”

“Nah, Abi picked her up just before you got here. But thanks for the offer.”

“Okay, well, I’ve got a double shift, but if you need me, don't hesitate to call.” Harry sat listening until her friend's engine noise faded before picking up Dean's card.

\-----------------------

“Man, people sure don't like you around here,” Dean said, entering the motel room and handing a pizza box to Sam. 

Sam opened his pizza box, looked inside, tossed it on the bed.

“Dude, I had to go to four different places to get that pizza! Four!”

Shrugging, Sam said, “I'll have it later.”

“This has really thrown you, hasn't it?”

\-----------------

Harry wasn't wrong about it being busy,  _ Sam thought as he stood behind the bar and looked around. His first night on the job turned out to be a ‘Gentleman's Night’. As the name implied, the crowd was mostly men, with a few couples interspersed in between. Girls were scattered around, giving lap dances to those willing to pay for it.  _

_ But it was the black haired beauty pole dancing on a stage at the back of the bar that had Sam's attention. There was something about the way she moved; the way her body snaked around the pole, like it was a part of her, and she a part of it. _

_ So wrapped up in watching, Sam didn't notice the surfer looking dude come up beside him. “She's certainly something else, ain't she?” The man tilted his head toward the pole dancer, and they both watched her for a minute. “Malcolm,” he said, extending his hand. _

_ “Keith,” Sam offered as they shook. _

_ “You're new here.” A statement. Sam nodded. Malcolm smirked. “She really threw you in the deep end, didn't she?” he said as he filled a glass with beer. _

_ “I guess she did,” Sam replied, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, is she even here tonight?” _

_ Malcolm spoke as he poured beers for a few customers. “You were just looking at her.” Sam looked around the bustling space, but couldn't see her blonde hair anywhere. “Not out there,” Malcolm said with a chuckle. “Up on the stage.” He chuckled again as Sam's eyes widened in surprise. “Told ya she was something else.” _

_ \-------------- _

“Sam? Sam!” Dean's hand on his shoulder, shaking him. “There you are buddy,” Dean said as Sam's eyes focused on his brother. “Thought I lost ya there for a minute.”

“Sorry Dean,” Sam muttered, just as a loud rumble erupted from his belly. Sam retrieved the pizza box, grabbing a slice as he spoke. “I wanna talk to her. I think -”

“ _ I  _ think you've lost your friggin’ mind is what I think,” Dean blurted, getting up and pacing the room. “C'mon dude, what makes you think that she'll wanna be in the same airspace as you, let alone have a conversation?” 

“We used to be close, Dean. Maybe if she saw me, spoke with me, she might -” Sam quieted as Dean raised his hand.

Dean sat heavily on the bed. “Let's just focus on this case, okay? Then maybe,  _ just  _ maybe, we might be able to sort this mess out.”

\---------------------

Sunlight glinted off the dark blue Firebird as it chewed up the asphalt as Harry drove. “Did you call Dean?” Glancing at her passenger, Harry shook her head no. “Why not?”

Tightening her grip on the steering wheel, Harry replied, “I didn't know what to say. ‘Keith asked for my help on a case involving spiders and I freaked out like a little girl?’ Yeah,” she scoffed, “ _ that _ would’ve gone down well.”

“There was a lot more to it than that, and you know it. Don't be so hard on yourself, Harry. We all have our fears. Yours just happens to be spiders.”

“And Keith.”

“And Keith with good reason.” A beat. “Har,” Moe started as Harry turned off onto a gravel road. “I know this can't be easy for you, knowing he's around.”

“What are you my therapist now?” Pulling the car to a stop under some trees, Harry killed the engine and took a deep breath. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap.” Her grip was still tight on the wheel. “Maybe this whole Keith thing has got to me a  _ little _ more than I thought.”

“Only a little?” Moe asked tentatively.

“Maybe a bit more than a little. But less than a lot,” she grinned, feeling some of the tension ease.

Moe grinned back. “Hey, maybe once we get this done you could go hang out with Grace. I know that always cheers you up.”

“We'll see. Let's just get this done first,” she said getting out of the car.

\------------------------

The vamps head hit the barn floor with a soft thunk.  _ Thank heavens they're asleep,  _ Harry thought as her machete sliced precisely through another one's neck. Just as she was about to decapitate another, machete raised and all, a loud crash came from the other end of the barn. 

Harry froze, momentarily distracted by the noise, stunned as the vamp she was going to obliterate opened its eyes and let out a roar. Harry bought the machete down, but the vamp was quicker, catching her by the wrists before her blade had a chance to get anywhere near its neck.

Harry wrestled the vamp out of it's makeshift hammock bed to the floor, managing to free her wrists of its grip by kicking it in the head. The machete cut through the air, and the vamp was no more. She turned just as another one tried to sneak up behind her. Then that one was gone too.

Moving quickly, she helped Moe dispatch yet another vamp before they both headed to the opposite end of the barn. But the sight that greeted her was not at all what she had expected.

A man was held from behind by one vamp while another vamp attacked him from the front, throwing punches to the captive mans face and stomach. Another vamp stood near a wall throwing downward punches onto someone on the ground. 

Harry pointed at Moe, then to a machete on the ground. Moe nodded, grabbed the spare machete and went to help the captive man. 

Sneaking up on the other vamp, Harry realised she wouldn't be able to reach its neck even with the machete. “Yoohoo. I'll make you famous!” she cooed, quoting one of her favourite lines. 

The vamp turned, made a run at her. Crouching down, she waited until the vamp was just about on top of her before she leapt up, machete swinging. 

And missed.

She just managed to leap out of the way before its long claws would've scratched a deep gash in her neck. She spotted a bale of hay as the vamp turned on her again. She ran, jumped on the bale and turned just as the vamp got to her. The machete sliced through the air. The vamps head landed on the ground, its body falling a few seconds later.

Breathing hard, adrenaline still flooding her system, Harry looked over to where Moe had been helping the captive man, seeing her friend headed towards her. 

“Harry?”

Turning her head, Harry felt her mouth fall open as she saw him. Her head started shaking of its own accord, her feet moving backwards on the bale of hay as she questioned, “Sam?”

He smiled at her, that disarming, dimpled, easy smile that he'd used on her the first time they'd met. He took a step forward. She took one back, her foot hanging lamely in midair before she lost her balance, falling backwards off the bale onto the hard wooden floor.

Lying on her back, winded, Harry heard footsteps, then Moe saying, “Don't. We can still shoot you.” Then she was in Harry's field of vision, hand extended. “You okay?” she asked as she helped her friend up. 

Nodding her response as she dusted herself off, Harry said, “Yeah, I'm good.” Then mouthed, “That's Dean?” As Moe nodded, she heard, “You okay Sammy?” “We should go,” Harry mouthed again. 

“You girls okay?” Dean asked.

“Peachy,” Harry returned, deadpan. 

“Hey,” Moe said, turning to face them while keeping Harry behind her. “Didn't I tell you to go somewhere far, far away?”

“We can explain,” Sam started.

“Go crawl back under the rock you've been hiding under. No one wants to hear any of your explanations,” Moe snapped angrily.

Harry put her hand on her friend's arm. “C'mon, let's go,” she half whispered, pulling on her arm.

“I'm Dean, by the way.”

“We don't care,” Harry called back over her shoulder as they left the barn.

\----------------------

Unable to keep it in any longer, Dean let out a chuckle as he and Sam walked back to the Impala. “What?” Sam snapped.

“The old lady wasn’t wrong. She really is half your size,” Dean replied with a laugh. “What is she, like elbow height on you?”

A small smile played on Sam’s lips at his brother’s laughter. “Something like that,” he whispered.

—————

Tyres hummed over asphalt as the engine purred. “You doing okay?” Harry shot a glance at Moe. “I'm sorry. I had no clue that they'd be there. I told them to leave and not come back.”

“So I heard. I knew he was back. I just didn't,” Harry blew a breath up her face. “I wish I'd had more of a heads up, ya know? Like seeing him without him seeing me.” They fell quiet for a few minutes before she said, “You got a thing for him.”

“What? Who?” Moe asked in surprise.

“Dean. And don't you deny it,” she added quickly as Moe was about to do just that. “I saw the way you were looking at him, even if he isn’t your type.”

“Did not!”

“Don't give me that! I  _ saw _ you totally checking him out.”

“So what if I was?” Moe pouted. “A girl’s allowed to look. Besides, he's Keith's brother. I don't know if I could trust him after everything, ya know?”

“I get it. I do. But if that's the only reason,” Harry shrugged, half in contemplation, half trying to ease some of the tension from her shoulders. “Then you're selling yourself short. He's not Keith. Who knows, he could turn out to be a decent guy.”

\-----------------------------------

_ “So, tell me about this new guy,” Moe enthused as she and Harry sat at a table in the bar. “Malcolm was light on the details.” Moe sipped her coffee. _

_ Harry rolled her eyes. “Trust Malcolm,” she deadpanned, making Moe chuckle. “Okay, well, he showed up yesterday looking for a job. So, I offered him a shift. Told him if it didn't feel right that there'd be no hard feelings.”  _

_ “And?” Moe persisted. _

_ “And what?” Harry shot back. “He showed up, put in his time.” _

_ Moe sat back in her chair, studying her friend. “What aren't you telling me?” _

_ “He can reach the top shelf without a stepladder,” Harry supplied with a shrug, feeling heat rush over her skin as she remembered the way he had moved the day before. _

_ “So, he's tall  _ and  _ a good worker. What else?” Moe sipped her coffee again. _

_ “I dunno,” Harry shrugged. A smile played on her lips as she said, “He's got this really nice smile. With dimples and everything.” _

_ “Would this be him now?” The bell over the door dinged as Harry turned around. Sam saw her and smiled. “Ooh girl, I see what you mean,” Moe whispered. _

_ Waving Sam over, Harry said, “Keith, this is my best friend, Melissa. Melissa, Keith.” _

_ Holding out her hand, Moe said, “Nice to meet ya.” _

_ “Likewise,” Sam replied, giving her hand a firm shake. _

_ Standing, Harry said, “I've got your pay in my office,” she directed at Sam. To Moe she said, “I'll be back. Don't go anywhere.” _

_ “Believe me honey, I won't,” Moe said as Harry led Sam off to her office. _

_ “So, I've given you the going rate, plus ten percent, just because I kinda dumped you in it last night, what with the short notice and all,” Harry said, retrieving an envelope from a desk drawer and handing it over.  _

_ Sam flicked through the envelope, not really counting what was there. “Is the offer still open?” _

_ Harry's eyes widened in surprise, having expected him to just collect his pay and move on. “The job?” Sam nodded. “Sure, if you want it.” _

_ “I, uh, I kinda need the work at the moment,” Sam said. “So anything you could throw my way?” he asked, eyebrow raised. _

_ Grinning, Harry said, “How soon do you wanna start?” _

_ \------------------------ _

The supposedly abandoned warehouse came into view as Harry crested the top of a hill. Cutting her engine, Harry coasted to a stop near the main door. 

The demon standing guard was easily dispatched, as was the next one. Hiding in one of the offices, Harry chanted as she drew a sigil on the wall, slamming the sigil with her palm once the incantation was finished.

Checking the rest of the warehouse, Harry found a few unconscious people on the ground; having dropped when the demons smoked out. “Ugh. Should've known you two wouldn't be far away,” she griped when she found the brothers tied to chairs.

“Harry!” Sam looked at her, surprise and hope mixing on his features. “Please, help us.” She ignored him.

“How'd you make all the demons smoke out like that?” Dean asked. “That  _ was _ you, right?”

“Yeah, that was me,” Harry grunted as she sawed through the ropes holding Dean's hands. “Do you have a knife on you?”

“Yeah, why?” Dean asked rubbing his wrists.

“‘Cause I'm going. You can undo his ropes once I'm gone,” she said, pointing at but not looking at Sam.

“Harry, please,” Sam started again, but she had already left the room.

\--------------------

_ “Knock knock.” Sam knocked on the open door of Harry's office as he spoke the words. _

_ “Keith,” Harry said with a smile. “You're not rostered on today.” _

_ “That's why I'm here, actually.” Harry gestured to the chair opposite her desk. Sam sat before continuing. “I was wondering, is there any way I could possibly get another shift or two?” _

_ “Aren't I paying you enough?” she asked jokingly. _

_ “No! No, it's not that at all!” Sam hurried to reassure. Harry waited. “It's just, staying at the hotel is costing more than what I expected, and I didn't have that much to begin with.” Which was only half true; he was making enough to cover the hotel bill and be able to put some aside. But it was her next words that bought the truth of it home for him. _

_ “And here I thought it was because of my charming personality,” Harry joked again. A moment of thought, then, “How do you feel about toilet seats?” _

\--------------------------

_ Peering out of the windscreen, Sam got his first look at the sky blue single storey cottage. Three wooden steps led up to the wrap around porch. Two rocking chairs with a table in between them sat at one end. “So, this is yours, huh?” Sam asked as Harry pulled the pickup to stop and got out. _

_ “Yep.” Hands on her hips, she looked up at the house. “Three more payments and she's all mine, free and clear.” Her grin was wide. “Grab your bags and I'll give you the tour.” _

_ Sam followed her in, finding that the door opened out into a living area. A couch sat in the middle of the room facing a large screen television. Bookshelves filled with not only books, but DVDs and framed photos lined one wall. Off to the left was the kitchen with a round table and four chairs. Leading him down a short hallway, Harry opened a door, revealing a reasonable sized bedroom with a single bed, chest of drawers and a nightstand with a lamp. _

_ “It's not much, but it'll save the expense of the hotel,” she said. _

_ “It's more than fine,” Sam said as he looked around. _

_ Backing out of the room, Harry stopped at another door. “Bathroom off to the right, laundry to the left. That's about it. You hungry?” _

_ “I could eat.” _


End file.
